


Home

by wordstothewisereaders



Series: Destiel Works [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Self-Harm, Song Based, comforting!dean, depressed!cas, fallen!cas, home by philip philips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 21:10:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10579539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordstothewisereaders/pseuds/wordstothewisereaders
Summary: After a tragic incident where Cas loses everything that makes him immortal, Dean is left to put the pieces back together.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on the song Home by Philips Philips and is extremely angsty.

 

 _Hold on, to me as we go_  
_As we roll down this unfamiliar road_  
_And although this wave is stringing us along_  
_Just know you're not alone_  
_'Cause I'm going to make this place your home_.  
  
  


Trees flashed by as Dean sped down the road, illuminated by his headlights and blurred by the fast-falling raindrops. Sam sat beside him, as always, wearing a concerned expression. Cas was in the backseat, hunched over uncomfortably. Blood was seeping through the back of his trenchcoat in two messy smudges.

"Hang in there, Cas. It's only a few more minutes." Dean said unsteadily, voice shaky and full of uncontrollable worry.

The scene that had unfolded an hour earlier was gruesome and filled with blood, resulting in Castiel losing his grace. His wings were quite literally ripped away from him, leaving physical and mental wounds that wouldn't heal for a very long time. Dean and Sam had handled it well, eliminating the source in record time before helping their friend get back to the Impala.

Dean booked it back to the bunker faster than he ever had, yanking the key out of the engine and hauling ass to the backseat. He helped Cas out gingerly, trying not to panic when he saw all of the blood. He held tight to Cas and allowed Sam to take the ex-angel's other arm for support.

The trio cautiously made it inside and down the stairs without further injury before Dean took over, throwing out instructions like a drill seargent. They carried Cas to his room and sat him on the bed, careful to mind the gaping wounds on his back. Dean sent Sam to get medical supplies while he stayed with Cas. He was able to help wiggle off the trenchcoat and jacket without any problem. It was the white button down that caused the most issues. The fabric clung to the wounds, causing for a painful removal. Dean kept a supportive hand on Cas' back as he slowly unbuttoned the shirt and slid his arms out of the sleeves. Inch by inch, he was able to peel the remaining part off of his back. By then, Sam was back with an armful of bandages and other supplies.

Cas looked terrible from their standpoint. Dark circles rimmed his eyes and his color was fading. Luckily, they had had to treat so many terrible injuries over the years that this wasn't all that big of a step up from normal. Sam was always the better of the two at dressing wounds, so he cleaned out the heaping gashes running from the top of Cas' shoulders to the middle of his back. Dean sat in front of him, allowing Cas to clutch his hands. He talked him through it, providing a source of moral support and concentration. Dean watched as tears pricked at Cas' eyes, threatening to spill over any second. He gripped his hand tighter, willing Sam to work faster so that they could asses the ex-angel's mental state.

It didn't take much longer for Sam to finish off the military grade stitches and patch them expertly. Dean noticed the fatigue written in Cas' posture, so he led him to the bedroom right beside his own and made him comfortable. He brought him an old pair of sweatpants and a t shirt that almost fit perfectly. Unable to lay on his back, Cas rolled onto his side, propping his head on his arm.

"Do you want me to stay?" Dean asked softly.

"I hate to be any more of an inconvenience." Cas replied, closing his eyes wearily.

"Cas, you aren't being an inconvenience." Dean said immediately.

"I'll be fine." Cas said, though there was hesitation laced in his voice.

The truth was that he was terrified of being alone. His grace had been his source of power and independance, always stable and present. Now that it was gone, he hurt. Cas had no idea how to function, let alone with all of the pain he was enduring. Watching Dean leave was hard, but he sucked it up and remained silent, for he never wanted to cause Dean grief. This was his new way of life after all.

***

Dean couldn't sleep, period. He was worried and angry and sad and all of the things that keep people up at night. Cas was just next door, but he couldn't help the concern that had overridden his mind about his friend. Cas had taken the fall, and hard at that. He was afraid of what it might do to the angel. He had seen the physical wounds and, as awful as they were, they couldn't compare to the mental damage that was most certainly present.

Dean tried to drift off and forget the world for an hour or two. The chance that Cas might need him lingered in the back of his mind no matter where his thoughts wandered to. It wasn't until a few minutes after midnight that his suspicions were confirmed. A muffled but real cry coud be heard through the walls. Dean waited, making sure his mind was not decieving him. Moments later, he heard yet another and another after that. He hopped up, reluctant at first because of the cold concrete hitting his bare feet. Seconds later, he was in Cas' room standing over him.

Cas lay on his stomach, arms hugging his pillow awkwardly. A fine layer of sweat covered his face and he mumbled incoherently every once in a while. The sheets were tangled, wrapped uncomfortably around his legs. Dean sat on the edge of the bed next to him, placing a hand gently on his shoulder. Upon the contact, Cas' eyes flew open and took in the dark scene. His bright blue eyes settled on Dean's, wild from the nightmare he had been having.

"It's alright." Dean said tersely, noticing the unshed tears appearing.

Cas took a moment to comprehend the situation before wrapping his arms around Dean's midsection, burying his face in his side. He didn't speak. He didn't have to. It was obvious from the unsubtle shaking and prior knowledge what was happening. Dean shushed him quietly, tenderly rubbing a hand up and down his arm lullingly.

They stayed together like that for a while before Dean made his offer again.

"Do you want me to stay?" he asked softly, making sure to let Cas know silently that it was perfectly fine to need someone.

Cas nodded hesitantly, looking up at Dean ashamedly. The hunter got up and moved to the other side of the bed, crawling under the covers and scooting close. Cas rolled over on his side to face Dean. He stared skeptically at the small space between them and recalled the conversations they had had many times about personal space, though he craved the contact and comfort that only Dean provided.

"C'mere." Dean said, lifting his arm.

Cas accepted the inviation, nestling under Dean's arm and hiding his face in his chest. Dean held him tight in a reassuring manner.

"I got you. It's all good." he whispered, vowing to keep the nightmares away.

"You're _home_ now. _"_

***

_Settle down, it'll all be clear_  
_Don't pay no mind to the demons_  
_They fill you with fear_  
_The trouble it might drag you down_  
_If you get lost, you can always be found_  
  
  


Weeks passed and Cas adapted to human conformities well. It helped that he already had a basic understanding of mortal ways from before; now he was just putting them in action. Dean was always nearby, ready to help with even the smallest of things. Though he didn't believe it possible, it seemed as if his love for the man was growing stronger the more days spent together passed.

Cas experienced many pleasant moments at the bunker with the Winchesters. He learned about the simple pleasures that came with a good book or sleeping in and also the sources of something larger like being close to his favorite people. However, where good things are there is usually some bad thrown into the mix, and with Cas' journey so far it was expected. Anxiety and depression set in quickly after the nightmares began. The full affect of what had been lost really kicked in when Cas began to question his worth.

There were good days and there were bad ones, varying depending on how he woke up. Sometimes he would be up before anyone else, ready to take whatever life threw at him and enjoy it in the process. This always meant he would be reading or following Dean around in pursuit of something new. Other days he would keep to himself, reserving his boundaries to his room and the kitchen when necessary. Those instances he would stay in bed, curled under his blankets and wrapped in thought, or, on especially bad days, he would lock himself in his room with nothing but a blade and a sad determination.

The blood fell in splotches on the ground by Castiel's feet. He watched and noted that the deep scarlett color was pleasant, though nothing else was at the time. He clutched a razor in his hand, left arm turned upward. Several thin but deep cuts ran across the length of his arms, crossing in different parts and forming bizarre patterns. They stung like hell, though he believed strongly that the pain was warranted. It was almost welcome, in a way, because it served as both a distraction and a reminder of his terrible mistakes.

Cas hated himself. The list was never-ending of everything that he felt responsible for. That was why he was here, trying to feel nothing and everything at the same time.

The fallen angel brought the blade down again, cutting a deep, diagonal line across two preexisting wounds. He gritted his teeth, trying desperately not to let the tears leak out of his eyes. He brought his head to his knees, curling into himself and trying to be as small as possible. He sat like that, eyes closed, for what seemed like an eternity. Blood splotched the bottom of his tshirt and pooled on the ground beside him. The world spun as he became slightly dizzy from the loss of the necessary fluid. _I deserve this._ He thought to himself, repeating it like a mantra that would make everything okay. _I deserve this. I deserve this. I deserve this_.

"Cas?" a deep voice asked, opening the door slowly.

"Cas?" it asked again, louder and certainly more rushed than before.

Cas heard the footsteps grow louder and louder until they were right beside him, strong hands resting on his shoulders. _Dean_. He exhaled shakily, both extremely relieved and horribly terrified to have him see him at the weakest he had ever been. He looked up, fearful.

"Hey, what happened?" Dean asked, voice softening as he looked at the blade Castiel was clutching along with the cuts.

"Oh."

Realization set in quickly, making Dean's heart sink. There was _so much_ blood.

"What have you done to yourself, Cas?" he asked rhetorically, slowly pulling the former angel to him.

He helped Cas up as best he could, supporting him to the bed. He sat him down, keeping a hand in contact at all times to reassure him that he was there while taking away the blade. Gently, Dean tugged at Cas' arms, turning them over to look at the gashes running from his wrists nearly to his elbows. He could see the slightly faded scars from where he had harmed himself before. Anger flooded Dean, both at Cas and himself. _How could Cas do this to himself? How could he not know that he was worth more than this? Why hadn't I realized it before?_ _Why hadn't I seen how much he was hurting?_

"How could you do this, huh? Why would you even consider this as an option?" Dean asked angrily, face level now with Cas'.

Cas looked taken aback by his sudden outrage, though not surprised. He ducked his head, trying to hide what he thought were pitiful tears that were slowly running down his cheeks. Now he thought Dean was even more upset. The hole he was digging for himself kept getting deeper and deeper.

Dean immediately stopped himself. He was aware that maybe now wasn't the time to be angry because maybe Cas really _didn't_ know. His heart shattered at the thought. Instead, he pulled Cas to the bathroom and made him sit on the countertop. Pulling out supplied from under the sink, Dean began working. He wiped away the blood, keeping pressure on the gashes to stop the bleeding. It was shocking how much there was. Secondly, he made Cas take off his bloodstained shirt and pants. It most certainly wouldn't help his mindset if there were splotches of the scarlett covering him. He brought back a warm blanket to wrap around his shoulders.

"This is going to burn, okay? It'll all be better after this." Dean said softly, pulling out the rubbing alcohol and a washcloth.

Carefully, he poured small amounts of the cleaner over Cas' wounds. He noted the former angel gritting his teeth and the extra tears slipping out. Cas' free hand grabbed Dean's arm, grip firm and desperate. Dean cleaned both arms before bandaging them expertely, his years hunting making him a perfectionist when it came to dressing injuries.

He stepped back after finishing, making sure that he hadn't left anything critical out. Upon his assesment, he noticed the choked back crying from Cas. Almost immediately, he stepped forward, arms outstretched. Cas fell into him messily, seeing nothing but the opportunity of comfort.

Dean led him back to his own room, blanket still wrapped tightly around Cas' shoulders. Once again he sat him on the bed, bringing back a new shirt and sweatpants that were slightly too big but okay nevertheless. Dean watched him slip them on and sit back down, silent.

"Cas, what happened back there?" Dean asked, taking a seat beside the man and throwing a supportive arm around his shoulders.

Cas stared at the bandages covering his lower arms, thinking about his self loathing and cosmic screw ups that served as his motivation.

"I-I am so broken, Dean....I am worthless and of no use anymore. I have dissapointed my father, my bretheren, Sam...everyone I have ever cared for I have let down. Worst, I dissapointed you. I cannot express how sorry I am that I failed you so deeply..." Cas said, his voice breaking.

Dean stopped breathing for a moment, so utterly terrified of the words he was hearing. There was everything and nothing that he wanted to say. If anything, he felt as if he had let Cas down now because he had failed to show him the assurance that he needed to keep going. He gently took Cas into his arms, readjusting them where they sat against the headboard.

Cas quickly buried his face into Dean's shirt, unable to hold back the restrained sobs any longer.

"You're worth it, Cas. You're worth the world to me. You're worth _more_ than the world." Dean whispered.

Dean ran his hand up and down Cas' back soothingly. He pressed gentle kisses to Cas' hair every now and again as a reminder that he would make it all okay.

"You dragged me out of Hell, Cas. The least I can do is pull you out of yours."

***

_Just know you're not alone_  
_'Cause I'm going to make this place your home_

Weeks passed and then months. The aching in Cas' chest never fully went away. Its everpresent pressure was always there somewhere. Dean helped lessen it. He was guiding Cas through this new life with steadiness and security, always there. Of course this didn't mean that everything was smooth sailing. You can never really get rid of depression. What it did mean was that when the days were rough, strong arms were ready every time to soften the blow of the muted world. Whether nothing was okay or everything was amazing, Dean was there to experience it with Cas.

The room was dark when the boys settled in, nothing but the TV to illuminate their makeshift living room. Sam was sprawled across the longer of the two couches with his feet propped on the armrest and a large blanket draped across him. Dean was settled on the other couch with his feet on the coffee table. Cas had his back to the armrest, legs stretched out awkwardly and a blanket pulled around him tightly. Long sleeves covered his arms to shield the constant reminders of all that he had been through.

All three of the boys were focused on the movie playing in front of them. It was something that they had haphazardly thrown together as a way to enjoy some hard earned relaxation after a taxing couple of weeks. Cas had been dragged back to Heaven a few days back, given the choice to stay and be rewarded with his grace and his old spot there or return to the Winchesters and a mortal life. Dean had been furious that his angel had been forced into something that would not help his mental stability, though he withheld it for the sake of Cas' mental well-being. They had yet to talk about it, and Dean began to itch for answers. Cas, on the other hand, felt incredibly guilty that he had impeded on the boys hectic lives once more, forcing his presence upon them. No matter how long Dean comforted and reassured him, it was going to take time to heal.

"Hey, Dean?" he asked softly.

"Yeah, Cas?" Dean replied, drawing his attention to the man.

"I'm sorry that you have to deal with this." He said, bowing his head to look in his lap.

"With what?" Dean asked, perking up and moving closer because by now he could read Cas' tone perfectly.

"I did not wish to throw my presence upon you again or to make you feel as though you have to make me feel better out of decency. I just...I couldn't imagine going back there - heaven. I-I'm just scared, Dean, that they would make me back into the monster that I was. I'm sorry that to escape them I came back." Cas said quietly, guilt pouring out in waves.

Dean's face softened, and he moved his hand to Cas' thigh for reassurance. He realized how much the offer from Heaven had damaged the fragile progress they had made together. He wanted to make Cas feel like the most loved person in the world.

"Listen to me. You are not a burden. Cas, me and Sam wouldn't be the same without you. Hell, _I_ wouldn't be the same if you left. We need you here, because you're family." Dean said firmly, bright green eyes piercing in the lighting.

"I just- I never meant to intrude on your home and try to make it my own-"

Dean cut his speech off abruptly, connecting his lips with Cas' in a passionate, long overdue kiss. They moved slowly together, blissfully in sync. Neither had ever felt so loved or needed or _wanted_ in their entire existence. Yes, they were hurting, but hurting together was far better than hurting alone. It was then that it was clear that Dean was all in, more determined to make his angel feel like family than before. The slightly run down halls of the bunker would be home and family more than Heaven ever was or could be.

"You _are_ home, Cas."


End file.
